Breakstone
First Post
After a particularly fun session, I've decided to write up the story hour in hopes of sharing it with folks (or just as a place to look back and say "Oh, man, that was cool"). So, without furthur ado:
Tsunami's Story Hour
Gar paused for a moment on the long suspension bridge. Heavy fog lay in both directions, so thick that even his orcish eyesight could not pierce its thick white musk and see to either cliffside. But far below him, Gar could see the Dragon Maw River, forked like a reptilian tongue. As the half-orc wizard peered down, two gulls flew below.
“Long way,” a voice croaked in Gar’s mind.
Gar shuddered, imagining a fall that long.
“That is correct, Het.” Gar placed a reassuring hand on his pet toad, and shuddered again. But he suppressed the thought, and continued his journey.
Suddenly, Gar spotted something in the distance: a dark, crouched form, huddling on the bridge. Ever hungry for knowledge, the wizard pressed on. Soon enough, he came upon a stocky figure huddled on the bridge, snoring loudly. The man was blocking the entire width of the bridge, and Gar could not risk stepping over him for fear of slipping and falling… and falling… and falling.
Thus Gar planted a kick in the man’s side.
“Wha- huh- what the?” the man- no- the dwarf stood, cursing. “Food…” he moaned. “I’m so hungry…”
Gar shuffled through his pack and handed the dwarf a trail ration. The dwarf gobbled in down rapidly.
“Waste of food…” Het mentally grumbled.
After licking his fingers, the dwarf introduced himself. “Greetings, and thank you for the food. My name is Falco.”
“Hello,” Gar shook Falco’s hand. “I’m Gar, nice to meet you. What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Um… It’s a long story that I don’t really wish to dwell over right now,” Falco grumbled. “How about you?”
Gar shuffled through his pack and produced a scroll. “I’m following this map.”
He gestured about. “I’m guessing that this here is the ‘Maw at Dragon Bay.’ I’m traveling north to Kalmet, seen depicted in Draconic in the middle.” Gar considered for a moment, looking Falco over. The dwarf wore chain mail, and carried a mean looking greataxe. “Would you care to come along?”
“No, no dwarf!” cried Het.
“Um…” considered Falco.
“No, no smelly dwarf!” repeated the toad.
“Sure!” Falco smiled.
“Bah humbug…”
Gar grinned, half because of the company and half because of the grumpy toad in his hood. A tusk peeked through his smile.
“To Kalmet!”
“To Kalmet.”
Over the next day, Gar told Falco about how he attained the map. Gar had fought through an ancient dungeon in the side of a cliff to return a number of ancient tomes to an old man by the name of Gorgoldand. In return, Gorgoldand gave Gar the map and a magic sword called “Hoardmaster.” Although Falco admitted the dragon-hilted sword was of nice quality, he himself preferred greataxes. Gar shrugged, Het harrumphed, and the group traveled on.
Days passed, and eventually Gar could spot the village of Kalmet in the distance. “Kalmet is on the horizon,” he announced.
But that wasn’t the only thing in the distance. Twelve humanoids stood together. Seven were in chains. “Orc slavers,” Gar noted.
“And their slaves…” Falco grumbled. “Listen, I’ve got a plan…”
Mako grumbled. He hated it when his companions argued.
“The slaves are growing tired,” Blip whined. “We should let them rest.”
“Who cares ‘bout slaves?” Grak snapped. “They’re slaves!”
“Wazzat?” Podun pointed south. Two humanoids stood. One looked orcish, and a rope bound the other.
“Send scout,” ordered Tusk. “Mako, you go!”
Mako grumbled, but was glad to get out of the fray…
Falco let out a slow breath. ‘Play it cool…’ he thought, keeping his hands still in the loosely bound rope. Gar stood behind him, face cold as stone.
“Ereh gniod uoy era tahw?” the orc asked, scratching its mangled hair.
“I don’t speak Orc,” Gar announced.
The orc struggled a bit, but eventually let out, “Why here you?”
Gar gestured towards Falco. “I’m taking my slave up to a dealer in the city of Kalmet. What business is it of yours?”
The orc squinted, attempting to translate, but eventually shrugged and gave up.
“Lummox…” Het sighed.
“Give slave me,” the orc ordered.
“Sure…” Gar began to walk casually behind the orc. “Let me just walk over here for a moment… and… NOW!”
Falco broke free of his bonds and swung his greataxe in one fluid motion, slicing across the orc’s chest. An arc of blood sprayed through the air. The orc’s eyes widened as he stared at his wound. “Hey!” Promptly, he fell to the ground. Falco kicked the orc into the bushes asking, “Anyone else want some?”
“Dwarf stay!” Het cried, crawling back into Gar’s hood.
Gar half-smirked, but his mouth straightened immediately. “Three others are coming. One, however, is staying with the slaves.”
A trio of orcs trotted up to the adventurers, eyes showing suspicion. “Where Mako?” one inquired.
“Mako?” Gar began. “Mako… uh… Mako’s…”
“Taking a leak!”
“…taking a leak,” the wizard finished, promptly slapping his forehead.
The orcs glanced about the meadow, searching for their orc companion. One suddenly cried, “They lie! Kill him!” With that, he charged Falco.
Grak saw it all in slow motion. He charged the dwarf, footsteps pounding into the road. Dust rose in puffs. A spot of red- blood?- spotted the dirt. As Grak slowly raised his axe for a swing, he saw the dwarf smirk. “Doog ton…” he grimly though. The dwarf smoothly pulled out a greataxe of his own, and swung in low. Grak could feel the cold steel slice through his chain mail and into his belly, catching on his rib cage. The momentum transferred into Grak, and suddenly he saw sky. Then ground. Then sky again. Sky- ground- sky- ground. Grak was flipping through the air. Grak’s last word was an “Ugg!” as he spattered on the road.
Gar pulled out a quarterstaff as he witnessed an orc flipping through the air, spraying blood and gore everywhere. An orc suddenly advanced on him. The wizard thrust his staff into the orc’s belly. The savage suddenly swung his axe, clipping Gar in the chin. Blood dribbled down Gar’s neck.
The third orc surveyed the scene, eyes widening. He began to run, but Falco was on him immediately, axe carving into the orc’s back. Gar swung his quarterstaff at the orc’s head, an audible crack following. The orc slumped to the ground, head twisted at an odd angle. Falco picked himself up, his armor coated in blood. “Let’s see how those slaves are doing.”
The slaves had been abandoned by the last orc. Most were human, one an elf. They moaned for food, and Gar supplied them with trail rations.
“Why waste food so much?” Het wondered.
The elf slave strutted over to Falco, still retaining his dignity despite the chains. “I know our kind does not have a peaceful past,” the elf intoned, “but I would like to thank you, dwarf, for saving me today.”
Falco nodded. “We’ve still got a day’s journey to Kalmet ahead of us. There you can probably find shelter in the church.
Gar interrupted. “We should get going before that last orc returns…”
Tsunami's Story Hour
Gar paused for a moment on the long suspension bridge. Heavy fog lay in both directions, so thick that even his orcish eyesight could not pierce its thick white musk and see to either cliffside. But far below him, Gar could see the Dragon Maw River, forked like a reptilian tongue. As the half-orc wizard peered down, two gulls flew below.
“Long way,” a voice croaked in Gar’s mind.
Gar shuddered, imagining a fall that long.
“That is correct, Het.” Gar placed a reassuring hand on his pet toad, and shuddered again. But he suppressed the thought, and continued his journey.
Suddenly, Gar spotted something in the distance: a dark, crouched form, huddling on the bridge. Ever hungry for knowledge, the wizard pressed on. Soon enough, he came upon a stocky figure huddled on the bridge, snoring loudly. The man was blocking the entire width of the bridge, and Gar could not risk stepping over him for fear of slipping and falling… and falling… and falling.
Thus Gar planted a kick in the man’s side.
“Wha- huh- what the?” the man- no- the dwarf stood, cursing. “Food…” he moaned. “I’m so hungry…”
Gar shuffled through his pack and handed the dwarf a trail ration. The dwarf gobbled in down rapidly.
“Waste of food…” Het mentally grumbled.
After licking his fingers, the dwarf introduced himself. “Greetings, and thank you for the food. My name is Falco.”
“Hello,” Gar shook Falco’s hand. “I’m Gar, nice to meet you. What are you doing all the way out here?”
“Um… It’s a long story that I don’t really wish to dwell over right now,” Falco grumbled. “How about you?”
Gar shuffled through his pack and produced a scroll. “I’m following this map.”
He gestured about. “I’m guessing that this here is the ‘Maw at Dragon Bay.’ I’m traveling north to Kalmet, seen depicted in Draconic in the middle.” Gar considered for a moment, looking Falco over. The dwarf wore chain mail, and carried a mean looking greataxe. “Would you care to come along?”
“No, no dwarf!” cried Het.
“Um…” considered Falco.
“No, no smelly dwarf!” repeated the toad.
“Sure!” Falco smiled.
“Bah humbug…”
Gar grinned, half because of the company and half because of the grumpy toad in his hood. A tusk peeked through his smile.
“To Kalmet!”
“To Kalmet.”
Over the next day, Gar told Falco about how he attained the map. Gar had fought through an ancient dungeon in the side of a cliff to return a number of ancient tomes to an old man by the name of Gorgoldand. In return, Gorgoldand gave Gar the map and a magic sword called “Hoardmaster.” Although Falco admitted the dragon-hilted sword was of nice quality, he himself preferred greataxes. Gar shrugged, Het harrumphed, and the group traveled on.
Days passed, and eventually Gar could spot the village of Kalmet in the distance. “Kalmet is on the horizon,” he announced.
But that wasn’t the only thing in the distance. Twelve humanoids stood together. Seven were in chains. “Orc slavers,” Gar noted.
“And their slaves…” Falco grumbled. “Listen, I’ve got a plan…”
Mako grumbled. He hated it when his companions argued.
“The slaves are growing tired,” Blip whined. “We should let them rest.”
“Who cares ‘bout slaves?” Grak snapped. “They’re slaves!”
“Wazzat?” Podun pointed south. Two humanoids stood. One looked orcish, and a rope bound the other.
“Send scout,” ordered Tusk. “Mako, you go!”
Mako grumbled, but was glad to get out of the fray…
Falco let out a slow breath. ‘Play it cool…’ he thought, keeping his hands still in the loosely bound rope. Gar stood behind him, face cold as stone.
“Ereh gniod uoy era tahw?” the orc asked, scratching its mangled hair.
“I don’t speak Orc,” Gar announced.
The orc struggled a bit, but eventually let out, “Why here you?”
Gar gestured towards Falco. “I’m taking my slave up to a dealer in the city of Kalmet. What business is it of yours?”
The orc squinted, attempting to translate, but eventually shrugged and gave up.
“Lummox…” Het sighed.
“Give slave me,” the orc ordered.
“Sure…” Gar began to walk casually behind the orc. “Let me just walk over here for a moment… and… NOW!”
Falco broke free of his bonds and swung his greataxe in one fluid motion, slicing across the orc’s chest. An arc of blood sprayed through the air. The orc’s eyes widened as he stared at his wound. “Hey!” Promptly, he fell to the ground. Falco kicked the orc into the bushes asking, “Anyone else want some?”
“Dwarf stay!” Het cried, crawling back into Gar’s hood.
Gar half-smirked, but his mouth straightened immediately. “Three others are coming. One, however, is staying with the slaves.”
A trio of orcs trotted up to the adventurers, eyes showing suspicion. “Where Mako?” one inquired.
“Mako?” Gar began. “Mako… uh… Mako’s…”
“Taking a leak!”
“…taking a leak,” the wizard finished, promptly slapping his forehead.
The orcs glanced about the meadow, searching for their orc companion. One suddenly cried, “They lie! Kill him!” With that, he charged Falco.
Grak saw it all in slow motion. He charged the dwarf, footsteps pounding into the road. Dust rose in puffs. A spot of red- blood?- spotted the dirt. As Grak slowly raised his axe for a swing, he saw the dwarf smirk. “Doog ton…” he grimly though. The dwarf smoothly pulled out a greataxe of his own, and swung in low. Grak could feel the cold steel slice through his chain mail and into his belly, catching on his rib cage. The momentum transferred into Grak, and suddenly he saw sky. Then ground. Then sky again. Sky- ground- sky- ground. Grak was flipping through the air. Grak’s last word was an “Ugg!” as he spattered on the road.
Gar pulled out a quarterstaff as he witnessed an orc flipping through the air, spraying blood and gore everywhere. An orc suddenly advanced on him. The wizard thrust his staff into the orc’s belly. The savage suddenly swung his axe, clipping Gar in the chin. Blood dribbled down Gar’s neck.
The third orc surveyed the scene, eyes widening. He began to run, but Falco was on him immediately, axe carving into the orc’s back. Gar swung his quarterstaff at the orc’s head, an audible crack following. The orc slumped to the ground, head twisted at an odd angle. Falco picked himself up, his armor coated in blood. “Let’s see how those slaves are doing.”
The slaves had been abandoned by the last orc. Most were human, one an elf. They moaned for food, and Gar supplied them with trail rations.
“Why waste food so much?” Het wondered.
The elf slave strutted over to Falco, still retaining his dignity despite the chains. “I know our kind does not have a peaceful past,” the elf intoned, “but I would like to thank you, dwarf, for saving me today.”
Falco nodded. “We’ve still got a day’s journey to Kalmet ahead of us. There you can probably find shelter in the church.
Gar interrupted. “We should get going before that last orc returns…”
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